


Sweet Talk

by orphan_account



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Chrisker, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Gore, Hand Feeding, M/M, Multi, Parasites, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sexual Violence, Smut, T-Virus, Teasing, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Virus, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21737173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Chris gets infected with a mysterious parasite with unknown effects, but soon the effects become not so mysterious.  Chris takes a liking to it, and so do his teammates, who eagerly take advantage of it's musings.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker, Chris Redfield/Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield/Jill Valentine/Albert Wesker, Jill Valentine/Albert Wesker, Leon S. Kennedy/Albert Wesker, Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield, Leon S. Kennedy/Jill Valentine
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	1. Resonance of a Savior

Rain pittered on the roof, breaking up the monotony of growls, scratching, and the sickening squirm of the insects inside of the wall. The tight halls of the mansion were barely wide enough for Chris to pass through without his shoulders brushing upon the decorative-and ironically religious- paintings hung up with reckless abandon. Not like any of that mattered at this point. He was more panicked about the aftermath of a battle in close quarters that happened nearly half an hour ago.

The laboratory under the mansion was beyond tiny, and with Chris's charismatic luck, a few creatures followed him into the testing area. It caught him by surprise, and it was a struggle to keep his own head from being sucked down into the acidic bile of the deformed creatures. The struggle snowballed into a flustered exchanging of punches, chokeholds, and kicks in lieu of the weapons firmly attached to Chris's sides. Three zombies surrounded him, but it wasn't until a shove from the center one made him stumble backwards into a rack of needles that he became worried. He finished off the three, stomping their heads hard enough to merge with the ground for safety measures. However, that didn't ease his panic. What had been in the needles' chambers? Were they empty? 

Chris now knew that the last statement was false. A green goo had regurgitated from the several pricks around the back of his upper arm, and he felt… different. As he maneuvered the halls, gun held out in front of him, he had a constant urge to seek the pleasure and satisfaction of biting into human flesh, tasting the blood and tissue. A few times, his mind drifted to lust over the idea of eating several human bodies until his stomach stuck out far beyond the hem of his pants, shirt riding up, and panting like he'd just ran a 5k. Human flesh wasn't the only thing that he craved, either. It was distracting; the desire to have the S.T.A.R's captain shove him against the wall, hands tangled in his hair, and rut against him like a near-animal would was driving him insane. He shouldn't be having those thoughts, and since when did he feel like that towards Wesker? 

Chris jolted when a bruising bite was delivered to his ankle, and attached to the teeth connected to his ankle was a dog. A feral, ugly mutt. 

"Ew, get off of me!" Shaking his leg madly, he realized that maybe calling out into the mansion was a bad idea for several reasons. Several more dogs crept through the halls- some through the windows- and Chris tried to aim at the nearest one. 

"Fuck… it's no use like this…" He dropped a few clips, cursing. His breath picked up as it was clear that he wouldn't return from the mission. The dogs remained biting, and bearing their weapons of carnage. 

More footsteps echoed around the hall, and Chris had an urge to piss himself, fearing that a horde was approaching as well. The footsteps were heavy, deliberate. From the sound, Chris reanalyzed and had hope that it was either one zombie, or in best hopes, another human being. He didn't care if it was an Umbrella researcher, goon, or mercenary. Anyone. At. All. 

"Hmph! Hh, owwe," Chris felt another dog grab his arm, tearing into his calloused flesh. It was funny how someone else got the pleasure appeal of it all. Ironic. 

Two gun shots to the dogs in front of him, and soon the whole gaggle of them had been obliterated. Standing a few bookshelves away was Wesker, sporting his nefarious cocky smile. 

"Didn't think I'd see you again, but I'm glad I did." Wesker walked over, his clunky boots doing all of his talking. "And by the looks of it, I'm assuming you're glad to see me as well?"

"Captain, don't tease me like that. You have no idea what I've seen down here." Chris covered his mouth as his words met his ears. 

"Tease you? Clearly you have no idea what teasing is. Let me show you. If that's alright, of course." His breath was on Chris's neck, and Wesker's hand travelled dangerously low, tugging at the other's belt. Chris's hips bucked a bit, trying to gain friction.

"Mm, we probably shouldn't be in the hallway, as thrilling as that is."

Wesker pulled Chris into the room right next to them after scanning the area for creatures, and once the scan showed no immediate threat, Wesker elevated Chris on top of one of the many tables in the room. 

"You're quite a needy whore, you know that? Rutting against me like a bitch in heat. Don't act like I didn't notice your breath pick up when you saw me. And not in the savior kind of way either."

"S-shut up and just do what you're going to do."

"Actually, I'll let the bitch in heat decide."


	2. twisted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker and Chris are some kinky bastards

"You're quite the perfect little mutt. I had a feeling about you since I joined this pathetic team. You all went against my expectations, though. Especially you, Chris." Wesker makes harsh contact with Chris's thigh, digging his nails into the inner sanction. He moaned, throwing his hands to meet Wesker's. 

"God, please. Stop being so wordy. If only you were like this on our missions. Maybe someone would understand what we were doing." 

"If you insist."

There went Wesker's hands again, this time under the thick fabric on Chris's chest, grasping at all of the flesh he could reach with his cold hands. He noticed the absence of the defined muscle he had seen so many times after missions, even if they were coated in the red wine of fruitatious war. Chris stopped squirming once Wesker started grasping at the small folds on his stomach. 

"I know what you're going to say, so, shut,, hh shut up. We haven't been on a mission in so long-" Chris couldn't deny that having Wesker feel him up like this was hot, even when feeling up turned into Wesker stripping him with fervor. 

"Honestly, I don't mind. It suites your personality." 

"Ha, like you'd know anything about my personality." 

Wesker's eyes narrowed. He abruptly flipped Chris over, removing the vest and shirt that was restricting his visual stimulation. 

"Well, I know enough about you to claim that you're a true pillow princess. What, do you want a pink crown to go along with your frilly dress, slut?" He didn't hesitate to take the other's belt and pants off after 

"Really? Didn't know were into it that much." Chris's boxers were nearly soaked in the front, and he had no shame in spreading the mess onto Wesker's hand, rutting like he'd been without sex for years (which maybe he had been). The blonde removed the damp boxers, throwing them on the floor haphazardly. The next to be removed was his own belt and pants, just enough to where he could pull out his own dick. 

"Ever bottomed, Chris?" 

"Hmph, yeah. Almost exclusively."

"See? I was right about you being a pillow princess. Also, it's odd that you have these bite marks on your back. How about you mark me up like that?" Chris pondered the possibly bite marks on his back before remembering the weird bottles he backed into. But marking Wesker? 

"Those are from something in the laboratory. I've been feeling strange since being injected, so I'd be careful about touching them. And what are you? A masochist?" Chris jokingly laughed, but the way that Wesker thrusted between his thighs told a different story. 

"Ah, maybe. There's only one way to find out though, right?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw!! if you want to listen to the song that this fic is named after, it's Dear and the Headlights- Sweet Talk. Such good Chrisker vibes

**Author's Note:**

> At first this was a horny drabble, but I'm hopefully going to make this into something longer. I'm definitely taking ideas/suggestions based on the tags, so comment away xoxo


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